Metamorphosis
by ghosthobbit
Summary: Everyone knows Bartimaeus's friend Queezle, but who was she exactly? And whatever happened to Asmira after she dismissed him in Jerusalem? Metamorphosis takes a dive into the lives of djinn and human that are so similar, they could be one and the same...
1. Chapter 1

The Queen's eyes flew wide, then turned to slits. "_What_," she growled, "are _you_ doing here?"

I gave her a reproachful look, but was laughing at her anger on the inside. "I want to speak with you."

"And what makes you think that I would have a hearing with you, girl?" She was trying her best to appear menacing. She mostly looked like she had eaten a raw lemon, her sneering lips seeming as though fishermen had hooks on either side of her jaw. The expression on her face was that of a fish just recently pulled out of water.

The dagger was in my hands before she could even register what had happened. I twirled the blade coolly, my eyes never leaving hers. "We both know you don't have a choice, Your Highness." I couldn't bring myself to call her my queen. Balkis gave an audible gasp, jaw agape in utter surprise. I let my gaze slide to the silver knife. "It would really be a shame to corrupt such a beautiful thing with something so vile such as yourself."

After a long moment, Balkis nodded. "It is done." She made an exaggerated gesture with her arm. "Shall we go someplace more…private?"

I hid the dagger and followed her to one of the back rooms. It was nothing special, just a couple of couches on either side of a small table, a rug or two here and there. Candlelight flickered on the walls.

She turned and sat across from me, ever the image of attempted perfection. But I had long since noticed the permanent scowl, the dark, gleaming eyes. I wondered how I had never noticed this years before, when I was still her guard.

Queen Balkis glared at me, gave an indignant huff and rose her chin. Her lips pursed, she straightened her back.

I rose an eyebrow, slouched back into the soft couch, crossed one leg over the other, my arms folded comfortably across my chest. A smirk slid onto my lips.

Her irritable reply lightened my mood even more. "Well?"

"Your Highness, I want to discuss an important matter with you, concerning the last few nights on the caravan route."

"I don't know what you're talking about, impertinent girl." Her reply was a little too quick.

I leaned forward. "Oh, but I think you do. And I'm sure the merchant's family can agree with me."

Silence. "This is ridiculous," The queen said, starting to get up. "Are you honestly accusing me of murder?"

"Mmm…I haven't said anything about that yet," I gave a cold smile, knowing I had her. She knew something. I could tell by her quick movements, her sharp tone. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. I had her. "But I suppose I am. Not direct murder of course," I went on, watching her with peaked interest. "Most people are too cowardly for that." I sighed, reaching for my dagger again. She had started moving subtly toward the door, hoping for a quick getaway. "I suggest you stay where you are."

Balkis froze. "It was not my fault." She protested. "The travelers were concealing terrorists from Kush!"

I held back a groan, refrained myself from saying something stupid. Instead, I cleared my throat. "And where exactly did you hear this news from?"

"A little bird told me." She sniffed.

For her sake I hoped not literally. "You _do_ realize that they would have had to cross the Red Sea to get here?"

"There is a high price for women like me."

I wanted so badly to slap her that my hand twitched in my lap. "And most stories from _'little birds'_ are fabricated truths?"

"Now you are accusing me of lying!" The Queens face was blood red. Her hands were clenched into fists, but she didn't dare move. I knew she was well aware how accurately I could throw.

I blinked. "You're one to make accusations, Your Highness. You see, there were no armed men coming. I was with them. I was the so-called _terrorist_." I narrowed my eyes. "And Aba died for nothing."

The Queen took a step back as I rose to my feet. She held out her hands in a feeble attempt to protect herself. I shook my head. The entire display was pathetic. How the mighty have fallen. "Balkis, you and I both know I would have killed you already if I wanted to. But I won't." I paused. "You've meant too much to my family."

"You're mother would be disappointed!" She squeaked.

I took a step forward. "My mother was an honorable woman…but I will not follow in her footsteps. I am my own, and I do not belong to anyone. Not even you." I stepped back, making for the door. When I reached the doorway, I stopped and turned back. "There will be no more accusations upon travelers without my consent. Please remember your pact with Solomon and I."

* * *

"Asmira,"

I turned, pulled back the hood of my robe to reveal my face. A dirty woman with reddened eyes took my hands in hers, gave them a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for all that you've done."

Biting my lower lip, I hugged her gently. Her frail body shook under the embrace. "And your children?" The merchant was the only one to bring home enough money to support them. He was now buried in the graveyard by the river.

"We will all manage without…" The woman's voice cracked. "Without…"

I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright. I'm only sorry I couldn't save your husband in time."

She gave me a weak smile. "Thank you for bringing back his body. Now he will not wander in the afterlife." Her breath shuddered as she tried to recollect herself. "I don't know what we'll do without him."

I nodded, unable to say anything. She started to walk away, but I took her hand. "I know it isn't much," I said softly as I pressed a copper coin into her palm, "But every little bit counts. I hope this helps feed you and your family."

She nodded, a tear running down her cheek. I suddenly found I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. I turned quickly and made my way down the street, my throat and eyes burning.

"Asmira!"

A different voice this time, off to my right. I pretended not to hear, careful not to let my pace quicken.

"Asmira!"

Closer now, almost directly behind me. I cursed, wiped at my eyes. I should have pulled my hood back up.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. "Asmira, wait up!"

I stopped, turned. My eyes flew wide. "Hakim!" Why was he here?

A boy wearing royal colors ran up beside me, trying to catch his breath. "Man, you are _hard_ to catch up to sometimes." At my inquiring look, he held out a letter. "From King Solomon of Jerusalem."

The couple chatting a few feet away had suddenly stopped when Hakim had mentioned the king's name. I took the letter and tucked it in my robes, then motioned for him to follow me. "We should discuss this somewhere else, not in the middle of the market."

"O-oh," Hakim stammered, hurrying after me. "Sorry."

* * *

Hakim was fast asleep on the couch, his snores mingling with the fire I had made up only a few hours ago. The sky had long since gone dark, but my mind was reeling too much to sleep.

Almost unconsciously, I started drumming my fingers on my small table, Solomon's open letter laid out in front of me in the same place it had been for the past few hours. Only three words were written.

_Come to Jerusalem._


	2. Chapter 2

My forehead furrowed as the words registered in my mind. "Just like that?"

King Solomon took a sip of wine from his golden goblet. "Mmhm."

"It's that easy?" He said nothing, only raised an inquiring eyebrow. I shrugged. "Alright, then."

A dull flash of light and a foliot materialized out of the air, hovering just above Solomon's left shoulder. It glanced at me, black eyes glittering in mischief, then whispered something in the King's ear. Solomon nodded slowly. "Yes, I see. Tell Lysander to send his Djinn. That should be all that is needed.

The foliot let it's gaze slide to the ring. It was only for the briefest of moments, and I would have missed it if I so much as blinked. "Yes, Master." It dissolved in an orange puff of smoke, smelling suspiciously of brimstone. Solomon sighed heavily.

I gave him a sympathetic look. "I suppose they all want you to use the ring?"

"More and more with each passing day," came the tired reply.

It was then that I realized how worn he looked. His eyes were almost bloodshot, his hair now completely white. Lines were etched on his face that I didn't remember from out last meeting. He seemed more fragile, as if the past few years had been too much on him. That was when it clicked. "It's gotten worse, hasn't it?" Shock overpowered my voice, bringing it down to little more than a whisper.

The king said nothing, only stared at me with placid eyes. I let out an aggravated huff. "Solomon, that ring is killing you! You have to get rid of it! Find someone else to guard it- destroy it- something!"

His chuckle sounded too exhausted for his age. I felt a sharp pang in the pit of my stomach. "Would you wish this burden upon others?"

I fell silent, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't know…" He tapped his right hand index finger and I groaned. "No, probably not." I sighed. "But just once, I wish you would consider your own well being above others."

"I am the King of Israel. I live for my people." He paused, then clapped his hands together. "But back to more pressing matters. The reason I called you here is simple: I need someone to protect Hakim on his voyage, and I don't know of anyone else, demon or human, who is as skilled as you."

I barely stopped myself from swaying on my feet. It was an enormous compliment to be given- especially by a king. By _the_ king. But then again, the way he gave it almost made me grin. He was still hoping for a different answer from me, even though I made my case very clear. Besides, I saw him more as a beloved family member than anything else. Nothing more, nothing less.

I nodded my thanks, then made my way to the decorated doors. I got about five feet from him when he called back to me.

"Oh, and Asmira," I turned back, but stayed silent as I realized a mischievous smile was playing on his lips. "We cannot change our destinies," he said, "But if fate wills it, you never know what that future can bring."

"What are you talking about?" My voice sounded pathetic, echoing around the empty throne room. I knew exactly what he was getting at. I bit my lower lip in agitation. I thought I had done well hiding my motives. But was I wrong? Was I that easy to read?

"Do not think I am unaware of what happens in my palace- particularly when dealing with our slaves." Solomon smiled kindly. "If he were here, you would be the first to know."

My heart thudded unevenly. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Hakim had been staring at me for a while now, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Stop it."

He pulled at the reins. "What's eating you?" he said casually, as if he were speaking of nothing but the weather. "You've been quiet all day."

"That's the point of guards." I muttered, still unable to bring my voice above a bitter and depressed tone. "We stay silent so that we can listen for anything out of the ordinary."

"Uh-huh," Hakim glanced over at me. "So it has nothing to do with that summons this morning?" When I didn't answer, he pressed on. "Asmira, not all summons work."

I closed my eyes, remembering earlier that morning. I had tried a frustrating three times, pronouncing each word carefully and precisely. And three times, the pentacle had remained empty. It had only been a few years, and the eternity of enslavement had apparently picked right back up. He was already under another magician's control.

I wasn't sure which was worse: The disappointment that he was not there, or the knowledge that he was on Earth, and had not come for me.

I shook my head to clear it. Why would he come in the first place? What reason was there? I was his past master- a terrible one at that- and as soon as I dismissed him, he had nothing more to do with me. I didn't blame him. No, any chance of him taking up on my offer was a long shot. He had more than likely forgotten about me by now anyway.

…So why hadn't I? For weeks now, his image had slipped into my dreams. It was as if it came out of nowhere, and every night I would wake up, still feeling those mesmerizing golden eyes fixed on me.

"-tough one, too." Hakim went on, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Fourth level djinni. That's not too easy a task. Pretty impressive if you ask me- if you were trying to impress someone." The tone in his voice caused me to look over. He stammered on, as if the words couldn't be stopped from flowing off his tongue. "B-but there's no reason for you to try and impress someone. You're already as perfect as it gets." His face flushed, eyes wide, body tensed and scrunched up as he clutched the reins. "I-I'm sorry, that was awkward. Was that awkward? Oh, yes, that was _extremely _awkward." He giggled nervously. "Hey- look at that cactus. I mean, that is a _big_ cactus." More nervous laughter ensued, and I found myself smiling.

Everything had happened so fast, I could barely keep up. First I had been scouting the desert, about to head back to camp, and suddenly here I was by the small fire. I felt like I was in a dream.

_A dream come true._

The youth flinched as I cut the bandage with my knife. He stared in hatred and uneasiness at the silver blade until I placed it back in my belt. I grinned when bright eyes met mine. "I can heal on my own, you know."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I wanted to make up for what happened back there. I swear, I didn't know it was you-"

"My amputated arm suggests otherwise," he sniffed.

I stuck out my lower lip. "Poor baby," I pulled the bandage tight and he yelped. Rolling my eyes, I tucked away the extra cloth.

"…Thanks."

My eyes flew wide at the mutter. "What?"

"Well, I'm not saying it again."

We both met eyes again, the looked away shyly. I poked the fire, watching the embers glow in the ashes. They reminded me of those eyes that had haunted me for the past month. I sighed inwardly. He was just as I remembered him- dark skinned, dimpled cheeks and merry eyes, dark ringlets of hair dangling just above his shoulders. Amethyst necklaces rested on his bare chest, a knee-length skirt stopping just above his knees. His sarcasm and witty remarks had been as amusing and aggravating as before. In short, he hadn't changed much in the past three years. Then again, neither had I.

"So…you've been on Earth." I mentally kicked myself for the stupid comment.

The djinni chuckled. "Is that nervousness I hear?"

I smiled, but didn't raise my eyes from the fire. "Only in the presence of such a wise, powerful Djinn." I teased.

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"In that case, then no, there is no such emotion before a demon."

"Tsk, tsk. That naughty word again."

I mustered up enough courage to look back at him- only to tense in shock of how close he was. I felt myself blush, then was angry at myself for doing so. Bartimaeus gave a quizzical look, then pulled back, eyes wide as if he had just realized what he had been about to do.

We both sat in silence for a while, listening to the crackling fire. A coyote howled in the distance. The demon cleared his throat. "I see you're wearing Jerusalem's colors." He paused. "I suppose-"

"No," I chuckled. "No, I think Solomon has enough wives for the time being." I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard a sigh of relief come from him. "I'm serving as a guard for Hakim- Solomon's messenger. I went ahead to scout and well…ran into you."

Bartimaeus touched his shoulder. "I'll say."

I was sure he'd sense me melting in his presence- then abruptly remembered Hakim. I stood quickly. "I-I have to go. I should have been back by now." I cursed under my breath. "I'm a terrible guard. He's probably worried sick."

The djinni stood with me. "Yes…" he said absently. He waved a hand and the fire winked out. My heart lurched when I saw his solemn form outlined by the moonlight. I found I could hardly breathe. What was wrong with me?

I blinked a couple times, then climbed onto my camel. "…I'll-"

Whatever I was about to say erased from my mind. Because when I turned back, Bartimaeus was suddenly there, pressing his lips to mine. I squeaked something incoherent before I was completely engulfed. My entire body tingled, and all that I felt was his soft kiss.

After a moment he stopped, rested his forehead on mine. "I wanted to know what it was like," he murmured, "You know…just in case…" he trailed away, but I didn't care. I got the message. Before I could stop myself, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips once more. When I pulled away, he pushed off from the camel and up into the night sky. Only then had I realized that at some point, he had sprouted beautiful white, feathery wings.

I sighed, still half drugged by the kiss. But all the same, I pulled the reins and the camel started moving back toward mine and Hakim's camp.

"Yes!"

At the sound of the shout, I twisted in my seat in time to see Bartimaeus shooting up high, spinning the whole time. His delighted laughter rung across the desert, and for a moment, I joined in.


	3. Chapter 3

I rose a hand to shield my eyes from the sun. "We should get moving." Briskly walking past him, I hoped he hadn't noticed what I was doing.

"Quit changing the subject!" Hakim exclaimed. "That's all you've been doing since you got back last night!" I risked a glance at him. He was hurriedly combing his hair with his hands. I looked away when he caught my eye. "Asmira, I'm worried about you! Where were you? I thought bandits had gotten you or something!"

I chuckled, patting his shoulder. "I'm fine Hakim." I paused, flashing back to the night before. Although the sun beat down upon me, I shivered, my heart starting to race. Against my conscious will, a small smile played on my lips. "I'm better than I've been in a long time." I said truthfully.

"There you go again!" He accused.

"What?"

"That look!"

I felt my ears redden, and I pulled at my head scarf to make sure he couldn't see. "What are you talking about?"

Hakim threw his hands up, letting out an aggravated shout. "Asmira! Stop it! Just tell me what's going on."

I turned to him, hands on my hips. "Why is it such a big deal?"

He threw his bag over his shoulder. "Nothing." He grumbled. "The fact that my guard isn't focused on the bandit and demon invested desert around us doesn't worry me at all. No, I'll start worrying when my bones are being used as a toothpick for Djinn!"

I rolled my eyes. "Hakim. I'm not going to let that happen." He didn't respond. Instead he climbed onto his camel, flicked the reins and started off toward the sun. I uttered a curse and jumped into my saddle, quickly catching up to him. When he refused to look at me, I knew I'd have to give him an answer of some sort. I took a deep breath. "Fine…I got lost."

A short laugh emitted from him. "I'm supposed to believe that?"

My shoulders fell. "Very well…I…met someone."

"Wait-what?"

Keeping my eyes on the desert hills in front of us, I hoped the conversation would be over soon. "I met someone." I repeated. "I haven't seen him for a few years…and well…we caught up."

"…In the desert?" I could feel the full force of his gaze, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Asmira, don't you think that's a little odd?"

I shook my head. "Not for him."

"Alright, then." He paused. "So…What's his name?"

I cursed under my breath, trying to come up with a name I was sure he wouldn't know. For some reason, not a single name came to mind. I panicked. "Bart." I felt the confusion and suspicion pouring off him, but -thank the Sun God- he didn't ask any more questions.

I smiled, ready to change the subject for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. "That was a well played exit back there."

"Mmhmm." He was still fuming under his tent.

"Except for one little problem."

"What?"

"We're going the wrong way," I chuckled.

He righted his camel, almost making it stumble with his jerky movements as he stammered, "I-I knew that."

_

* * *

_

"No, not that…He can just be a little…" I sighed in exasperation. For the past half hour I had been attempting to describe Hakim to Bartimaeus, and to no avail. Every word I searched for, it seemed, I could never find. I bit my lower lip in thought. "He's very…eccentric." I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. "No, that's not right either."

Bartimaeus chuckled. "If it's that important, just describe him- and it doesn't have to be one word this time."

I let a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. "I don't think I could cover it in a million words." I said doubtfully.

I glanced over to find him with his arms folded across his bare chest, eyebrow raised and a smirk growing quickly on his features. Over the past several days he visited frequently, and this expression became familiar to me. The djinni made it so often I found it almost comical. After a moment, the look intensified and I gave in, trying to give him an idea of Hakim's appearance. Nothing came out right, and in the end, Bartimaeus stopped me, a hand risen to stop my rambling.

He paused, then shrugged his shoulders. "He sounds like a gay Arabian to me."

I gave a well aimed kick to the hot sand and a shower of dirt came flying toward the demon. "Be nice," I scolded.

As soon as I turned away, the sand came right back at me.

_

* * *

_

My cheeks reddening, I whirled away, trying to move silently across the sand. Things didn't go exactly according to plan. The moon provided almost no light at all, making the desert seem vast and empty. The darkness distracted me- I wasn't paying attention, and accidentally tripped. In an effort not to fall into the fire, I grabbed onto Bartimaeus, and we both fell to the ground, crashing into the pots and scaring the camels. I landed on top of the Djinn with an "oof", banging my forehead on his. The demon cursed, then laughed when he saw my expression. A wide grin spread across my features and I joined him. I sat up, brushing a piece of hair out of my face.

Bartimaeus touched my knee, a wicked gleam in his eyes. My heart thudded unevenly as I leaned down…

"A-Asmira?"

Whipping back to reality, I scrambled off the djinni, realizing immediately what that must have looked like. "Hakim!" We must have woken him when we crash-landed.

"Who is this?" He demanded, completely furious.

I stood, dusting off my hands. "Um…that's Bart."

Bartimaeus was climbing to his feet, pulling a surprisingly undamaged pot off his head. I must've pushed him into it on accident. "You gave me a nickname?"

"I panicked!" I shot back, my feet digging into the sand, wishing it would pull me under and save me from this mortification.

He snickered. "I thought you never-Merciful Anunna!" He exclaimed as he saw Hakim. "He_ is_ a gay Arabian!"

Needless to say, everything went downhill from there.

* * *

I closed my eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead felt something loose slide over my head and around my neck. Something cold settled on my chest, and I touched it with tentative fingers. It felt like…I blinked open my eyes as Bartimaeus stepped back, arms crossed in the familiar pose. He shook his hand horizontally. "Eh," he critiqued.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, then looked down- I gasped in awe. A beautiful necklace rested on my chest, golden twisting chain links stood out against my dark skin. The amethyst gemstone winked in the bright light, tiny golden leaves and flowers bordering the brilliant purple. For a moment I was speechless, a faltering hand raised to it, almost afraid to hold it.

No one had ever given me something so wonderful…

I leaped forward and wrapped my arms around Bartimaeus's neck. The surprised djinni stumbled back, then suddenly remembered how to stand. "Thank you," I breathed. He wrapped his arms around my waist, patting my back gently.

I sighed, Bartimaeus pulled back. He brushed a piece of black hair out of my eyes. And for the first time since my mother died, I felt tears prick at my eyes. The touch was so gentle, it seemed to go right through my skin and straight to my heart. For the past nineteen years, no one had given me so much as a passing glance- at least until I fought. But even then, people stayed away. I was treated like dirt by my "Queen". Villagers whispered awful things about me in the alleys. Every passing man would look at me as if I were just a pretty little trinket, wondering if I were worth their time. And suddenly, in the midst of my damaged world, this demon came along and changed everything. He showed respect for me (even if it was grudging- it was still there). He saw me for who I was. He even saved my life…He did the first nice thing for me in my whole life. And honestly, if what Hakim said earlier was even remotely true, I wouldn't care. Because Bartimaeus already had me sold. There would be no other. I was his, for as long as he would ever want me. And truth be told, I was utterly and completely in love with him- in every sense of the word.


	4. Chapter 4

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from screaming. My hands clenched into fists at my side, nails digging crescents into my palms. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them just as quickly as I stormed off to my tent. Shaky breaths constricted my lungs as I paced back and forth. I had to compose myself. I had to think this through, before any rash decisions were made.

I only had a few seconds before Hakim burst in. "What did I tell you?" he demanded. "I tried to warn you, but did you listen? Of course not!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "We should have never trusted that demon!"

On the last word I whirled around to face him. "Djinn." I growled. "Not demons. Djinn."

"Because that will make a difference!"

"It's a start!" It was all I had not to shout the words at him. I tried to be calm for the both of us, hiding the uneasy churning in my stomach. What had just happened couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

"Asmira, you saw it with your own eyes. _I _saw it."

I swallowed as my mouth ran dry, my voice cracking. "This isn't right." Yes, Hakim knew what he saw. But what the messenger didn't see- what I saw in the last few seconds I stayed- was the broken expression on the djinni's face. In that moment when our eyes met, I understood, and he knew that I did. It wasn't his decision.

Hakim scuffed the sand. "You should drive him away, he's only causing more problems." I lifted my gaze to him, and suddenly saw the meaning for all of this distrust. Even though there was plenty of anger and fear, there was also…

Hakim came close, grabbed my shoulders. It barely registered in my mind. "Asmira, let him go. He's no good for you. You could do so much better than him." He paused. "What about me?" he whispered. "I've been here for you for the past three years…and you never realized that I loved you."

Before I could react, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. I pulled away instantly, staring uncomprehendingly at him. My mind racing in shock, I stepped back. "This can't be happening…" My voice was a hoarse whisper, and was gone just as quickly when I ran out into the desert heat.

* * *

Nothing made sense anymore. Bartimaeus's master… Hakim… it was all too much. I had never been so torn and confused before. I looked to one side- the vast desert. He was out there somewhere, taking risks and punishments for me. He showed me the first real affection I've ever had since my mother died…

I looked to my left. Hakim's small fire winked in the darkness. He had been there all along, and I never noticed…

I wiped at my eyes, though they were dry. Everything was upside down. And I didn't know what to do.

"Asmira,"

I gasped, scrambling away from the voice. I hadn't realized the Sumerian boy had materialized next to me. Soft, golden eyes blinked at me before he looked away. "I was hoping you wouldn't find out…"

I unconsciously moved closer. Despite the horror revealed to me that day, I still felt that same longing that came with his presence. A small smile flickered on my lips, and I took one of his cold hands in mine. His gaze moved from the ground to our entwining fingers, then to meet my eyes. But there wasn't any fear…Only a certain sense of _longing_ that I couldn't place, let alone think through. There was only this moment, us together. Nothing else mattered. After all we had been through…I needed him to know, whether he felt the same or not.

"Do you trust me?" he murmured.

"More than I should…"

"But even after all that? Everything went wrong today- you saw my master. And you still-"

"Bartimaeus," I tilted my head up, my eyes closing. "Stop talking."

I sighed, leaning into him when we pulled away. I felt the pain before I said it. "This will never last, with it?"

He paused, confirming the answer I wished wasn't true. Finally he pulled me close. "I'll won't leave you." He murmured, his lips brushing against my skin.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Content with the answer, I closed my eyes, resting my head on his bare chest. I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that. I barely remembered curling up next to him, falling asleep in his arms. All that my brain was able to account for was that he was there with me, and always would be. Feeling secure with his arms wrapped around me, I smiled to myself. Within moments I was asleep.

When I woke in the morning, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

I let my hair fall across my face, obscuring Hakim's view of my expression. I didn't want him to see me broken. The past few days I had kept quiet, to myself. Bartimaeus had not returned, and I had long since accepted he was dismissed. And day after day, everything had slowly fallen apart. Hakim commented regularly on how Bartimaeus hadn't come around since the night he kissed me, and it took all I had to keep my temper in check. I easily caught the jealousy in his tone when the subject came up. Hakim thought he was helping me, saving me. He was wrong, inadvertently pushing me deeper into the void that had replaced my heart.

_I won't leave you…_

The promise had replayed in my head over and over, my brain trying to make sense of reality. He was gone…but he promised he…

Hakim snapped his fingers in front of me, finally getting my attention. Worry shone in his bright blue eyes. "Asmira."

I couldn't stop the irritable reply. "What?"

He reached out to touch my shoulder, I shied away. His arm still outstretched, he sighed. "I have to go now…" he paused, "That Bartimaeus… he's done something to you. And when I find out-"

"Stop." I snapped. "Just…stop. I can't take this anymore! Hakim, I _know_ what has happened, and I _know_ how I feel- here's the catch: _you don't_. If you really loved me you would have shown some sort of sympathetic capacity, instead of storming around in a childish tantrum! Now leave me be!" My gaze flickered to him long enough to catch his heartbroken expression. But I was too angry to apologize. "You better go, don't want to keep the Queen waiting any longer." I muttered.

Silence. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"…I'll be back before sundown tomorrow. I need some time to think."

He gave me a strained look, then started toward the palace, only sneaking a couple glances back.

Without thinking, I reached for the necklace Bartimaeus had given me. I had to find strength. Part of me longed to simply draw a pentacle and summon him. The other half revolted from doing so. I swore on the Sun God I would never summon another demon, and I wanted to hold true to that promise. Bartimaeus's recounted experiences had sparked clarity in me. And though I longed to see him again, I left him to his peace in the Other Place.

* * *

I gasped in a breath, holding my wounded side as the bloodied body fell back into the sand. Moving quickly now, I gestured to the old woman. "Come on, we haven't time to spare. The survivors are sure to bring back reinforcements." Half limping to the camel, I cursed, stopped in my tracks. It's throat had been cut. They certainly knew what they were doing.

"What will we do?" Her hood covered her face in shadows, and all I could hear was her rasping voice.

I glanced up at the moon, bright and oblivious to the horror instilled moments before. "We get moving while we still can. I'll take you to the city- you'll be safe enough there." I sheathed my knives. "Grab those canteens."

The old woman did as she was told, then followed me closely. I tried to avert my eyes from the slaughter. They had come so quickly, no one was prepared. I sighed. My luck I would go out walking and run into travelers, then in turn be attacked by rogues.

I picked up speed when my eyes caught sight of the children laying just a few feet away. Anger and guilt swept through me. I should have fought harder, faster. And no matter how much logic wedged in my head, I felt responsible for their deaths.

* * *

We had only walked for a few minutes, the carnage behind us still visible. I had been replaying events in my head, trying to figure out who the bandits were. Who could have struck so fast and so quietly, and run undetected in the middle of the desert…and the old woman. They slaughtered everyone else, why leave her?

That was when I noticed how closely she was following me. I could barely hear her footing. And for someone her age, she was breathing softly, almost…delightedly. It suddenly all made sense. And too late I realized my mistake.

I turned- only to have the woman's staff whip across my face. I touched my head, bloodied fingers came away. I jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding another lethal attack.

"You're one of them!" The old woman pulled back her hood, revealing her scarred and weathered face. A smile without humor spread across her features. I glared, unsheathing my knives. "Murderer!"

I started at her, but she pointed her staff- shouted something in a foreign tongue. A column of sand shot up, formed a hand, crashed down upon me. I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut as sand engulfed me. My lungs screamed for air, and in one desperate motion I tried to push my way out. But just as quickly, something grabbed my wrist, flung me out of the sand with one jerk. I landed hard on my back.

I groaned, started to pick myself off the ground. Something struck my stomach and I doubled over. I opened my eyes to see a dark shadow retreating from me, returning to the woman's side. Her lips drew back in a sneer. "Solomon isn't here to protect you now, is he? And neither are you're little demon friends."

I wiped the side of my mouth, drawing back into a defensive stance. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

The old woman held up a hand, her sleeve falling back. My heart dropped when I saw the crisscross lines etched into her skin. She gave me a toothy grin. "I'm under new employment," she rasped. "I must say, your Queen was desperate to be rid of you, considering we were the first she came to."

My stomach churned. Balks was gullible and easily offended…but assassination? My mind flashed back to Solomon. Then again…

She moved, her hand risen to signal another assault. On pure instinct I flicked my knife to the left, where a satisfying _thunk _resounded. The shadow screamed once, then dissolved. At the same time something else grabbed me from behind, forced me to stay still while the witch sauntered to me. She took my face in her rough hands, nails biting into my cheeks. I tried to wrest myself from her grip, letting out a short cry of frustration. She was stronger than she looked.

"You've been a little devil, miss Asmira," she practically purred the words. "Destroying my people."

Anger flared inside me. "They have been spilling innocent blood." I growled, thinking about how the little girl's carcass would decay in the desert heat. "I've been protecting the travelers for years," I went on through gritted teeth, "Why do you only act now?" The woman dug her nails harder into my flesh, and I felt something sharp touch my throat. I dared not move, but centered all of my anger into a well-aimed glare. "I am not afraid to die."

She grinned, a wicked look that sent chills down my spine. "Oh darling, I can do much better than that."

She suddenly thrust me away, and I fell back onto the ground. Before I could do anything, low chanting rose from her. I swallowed, gripping my knives when the sand beneath me started to shift. I wobbled, dropping into a crouch so I wouldn't fall. The witch threw her arms in the air. High winds started around us, a swirling cloud of sand encasing us. "_Martalitas!_"

Wicked laughter surrounded me, and I jumped back, a yelp escaping me as a face protruded from the wall of sand. It chuckled, sinking back into the mass. I shivered.

She turned to me, eyes glittering. "_Nex!_"

I felt a presence behind me, lashed out with my knives. Something retreated back into the sand wall. "_Tenebrae!_"She was screaming the words now. "_Opprimo,_" Freezing hands clasped onto my ankles. "_Opressi,_" I fell, attacked from behind when I was distracted. "_Opressum…_" A cold wind blew through me as my heart started to race. The woman chuckled. "_Lumen_."

Darkness surrounded me, sharp claws slashing at my body. I gritted my teeth, tried to fight back. It was no use.

"_Adustum!_"

I gasped in pain, falling to my knees. It felt like someone had lit a match, slowly burning me with a cold fire. My hands screamed in agony, and I dropped my silver knives. The pain lessened immediately.

"_Mutare!_"

Something slashed at my face, across my eyes, mouth and ears. Blood should have been pouring from me, but there was nothing instead. When I blinked open my eyes, the word spun, everything duplicating into seven images, all with more clarity and color than the last. I found I could understand what she was saying, and fear crept into my mind. What was happening to me? I ran my tongue across my bottom row of teeth, felt a sharp prick. This was impossible…

"_Mutatio!_"

Claws dug into my back and I screamed, unable to hold it in any longer. It felt like my flesh was being stripped off my bones, piece after agonizing piece. "What have you done?" I managed.

"Gifting you with what you really are," She snarled. I heavy burden crashed down upon me, and I could've sworn I heard chains rattling, clasping onto my wrists and ankles. "A devil!"

I no longer had the strength to hold myself up- my knees buckled beneath me and I collapsed into the ground. I heard her approach, braced myself. She kicked sand into my face. "Perhaps now a lesson can be learned."

She started to walk away. "Get back here!" I growled. "Give me a clear answer! _What have you done to me?_"

She whirled around, eyes ablaze. "Cursed creature, you will soon get what you deserve!"

Half unconscious, I helplessly watched her disappear as she walked away. The pain subsided, a dull ache pulsating throughout my body. I wiped my forehead, expecting the blood from earlier to slick my fingers. Instead, a gray ooze dripped to the sand. I only had a few seconds of horror before a sharp tugging started in the pit of my stomach. And before I knew what was happening, I was sucked away into a distant world of chaos.


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing I felt was a sharp tugging sensation. It was the only sign I had that reminded me I was still alive. I had floated in this…substance… for what felt like years. My only consolation was that I was dead, and perhaps this was my eternal punishment for loving a demon. And now, I didn't even have that luxury.

The next thing was a voice, cold, hard and stern. I cringed in pain for only a moment before I was whisked away from the mass. The out of body experience only lasted a few seconds before I landed on a cobblestone path, banging my forehead on impact.

I groaned, pulled myself into a sitting position, my hand rubbing my forehead gingerly.

"-and you are to obey my will."

I blinked unsteadily, then realized what I was sitting in. I recognized the protective circle, the five point star with runes.

"Do you understand this, demon?"

I slowly brought my gaze to the gruff voice, saw the pentacle he was standing in. I swallowed. "Demon?" I whispered unbelievingly. He was in one pentacle, and I in another, larger one. And if he was the magician…that made me…

He was about to speak when I jumped up, heart pounding. "No! This is impossible!" I took a step back, then stopped when I felt a pressure at my back. I turned slightly, saw the edge of the pentacle. My mouth ran dry.

_I'm gifting you with what you really are: a devil!_

The man clasped his hands together. What was left of his ragged jacket sleeves dangled uselessly against the chill. "I imagine this is your first time, Queezle, due to your utter shock. So I'll set the standards." Here he pulled at his collar importantly. I noticed his dirty face and fingers, torn and weathered clothes. Stubble encased his chin. I cocked my head to the side. He didn't look like a magician at all. "I am your master, and you are my slave," he went on, "So from now on-"

An unsettling feeling enclosed on me, twisting my stomach into knots. Something he said. How he referred to me… "Queezle?" I half whispered.

The man eyed me. "Yes. Queezle. Your name." He puffed his chest out a little. "And in the knowledge of your name, I now have power over-"

"Yes, yes!" I snapped. "I know how it works!" I took a slow, shaky breath, resisting the urge to fall to my knees. The world around me had long since faded black, sounds echoed in my head as I tried to make sense of reality. "I just can't believe it." I paused. When I spoke next, my voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "Where am I?"

"What?"

I swallowed, unconsciously touching my necklace. The amethyst gemstone seemed to give me a small glimmer of reassurance. "Where am I?… _When_ am I?"

The magician's eyes sparked. "507 A.D."

I staggered back, stopping when I reached the end of my pentacle. It had been almost 824 years since my time in Jerusalem.

* * *

I was a demon. There was no other explanation. I was one of _them_ now, and always would be. _That _was what the old witch did to me in my final moments of freedom. _That_ was the reason why I couldn't bear to be near my silver weapons that probably could have saved me from this eternal slavery.

A long silence ensued across the lake as I stared in horror at the image that floated just inches away. My onyx eyes were now rimmed with a golden color. Every time I opened my mouth, small, sharp fangs taunted me. Dark brown jackal ears drooped low, rose a bit, then fell flat against my head once more. Dorsal tubes extended from between my shoulder blades to the small of my back. The young girl seemed almost alien to me.

I drew in a breath, focused my energy. The girl's features dulled, the ears, tubes and fangs gone. My eyes turned back to their normal color. All too quickly I let go of the image, Asmira flickering back to Queezle.

With a heavy hand, I reached out to touch my reflection in the lake. Black rings rippled across the surface for a moment, then all was still. But when the water cleared, the creature was staring back at me with terrified eyes. It was still there…_I_ was still there…

* * *

My time with the magician was short. The man- Darius- had been pushed from the line of power and out onto the streets a few months before he summoned me (Which explained his bedraggled appearance quite clearly). He had spent weeks out on the streets, searching and dodging the authorities until he discovered the name I learned to be mine. He was kind to me, never hurt me. Though he did come close with my flurry of questions, starting with a reluctant "What is your will?" to eventually "Why do you always smell of honey?" But all in all, he wasn't a bad master, and I was even moved to sorrow when he died some years later, murdered by another ambitious magician. And even though I liked being back on Earth, I half hoped it would be a while yet before someone else summoned me. I might not be as lucky next time…

* * *

In due time, the inevitable came. I felt the pain inside me grow, as if being pulled in all directions at once, then hurtle toward Earth. I only had a few seconds to scrabble at my form before I was thrown into the pentacle. If only I hadn't been so naïve as to believe all magicians were like Darius. Even though I remembered Bartimaeus clearly, and thought of him often, his retold storied weren't enough to prepare me for the cruelty that was expressed in only a few, cold moments.

I shivered, trying not to think about. Rolling my shoulders to shake off the feeling, I gave a small sigh. The events of the past few days were almost too much- I didn't know what to make of it. My master had punished me over and over, when I hadn't done anything wrong. She just kept the pain coming, a cruel smile plastered on her porcelain face as I cried out in agony. Now I understood why the Djinn were so hateful toward humans. If most masters were like her…

I broke off mid-thought, forcing back a sliver of fear when I heard sudden footsteps coming toward me. Was it her? What would I do? I was doing my job properly- sentry duty was all she had given me. Why would the situation seem fit to punish me again?

I felt frozen, a deer caught in headlights as the footsteps grew near. For a moment everything split into seven, and I had to concentrate to make it all squish back into one.

A young woman rounded the corner, short, pure white hair and golden eyes giving her away as a demon. I sighed inwardly with relief. She stopped, her companion passing her. I wet my lips, looked back toward the courtyard.

"You're new, aren't you?"

A small yelp escaped me as I whipped my head to the side. Bright eyes stared into mine. I hadn't even heard her move.

"What's your name?"

I looked away, unable to bring myself to hold a conversation. I pulled my knees to my chest, leaned against the pillar and stared across the lawn. I found myself wishing she would go away.

The girl looked over her shoulder in the direction the other demon had kept walking in. "Hodge! Get your sorry quills over here!"

I heard grumbling protests before I saw him. He didn't look like much- more like an old man than anything. In curiosity I flipped through the seven different images, snapping back to the first when I saw the spikes. I clutched my knees a little tighter.

The female djinni pointed to me. "I can't get her to talk."

Hodge huffed indignantly. "Perhaps she's mute. That magician's so-called 'lessons' are worse than she takes them to be."

The girl made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Yes…it's all very uncalled for…" The golden eyes suddenly fixed on me. "Well? _Can _you speak?"

I gave a slight nod, drawing back a little.

"See?" She started, then let out a squeak. I turned- my jaw dropped in horror. A barbed tail was sucked into the old man's mouth like spaghetti. "Hodge!"

The demon burped, then shrugged. "He was asking for it." he grumbled. "A mite too pushy for me, wouldn't you agree Mwambe?"

The girl sighed. "Master won't be pleased."

"She'll make a mistake sooner or later," Hodge's eyes narrowed, briefly flashing black. "They all do."

Mwambe grinned, sharp teeth showing. "And when she does…"

They both started laughing, as if someone had cracked a joke. I shifted uncomfortably, the twisted humor causing me to look away. Over the last few days, the endless jobs and missions never seemed to stop. I hadn't spoken since I left the pentacle the first time I was harmed. I was too afraid- both of myself and the world around me. The more time I spent around the other Djinn, the more I realized how everything was so different. I was exposed to the true nature of demons, rather than the kindness Bartimaeus had pampered me to.

"Queezle!" I jumped, then turned back to the other Djinn. "Your name _is_ Queezle, right?" Mwambe asked.

I nodded. "Yes." My voice was quiet and raspy. I cleared my throat, tried again. "Yes…I'm Queezle…" My heart thudded. I _was_ Queezle. The real me- Asmira…she died all those centuries ago…or changed, at least.

The girl clapped her hands together, a short laugh emitting from her. "Ah, she lives!"

Hodge gave an indignant huff.

Mwambe rolled her eyes, then gestured to herself. "I'm Mwambe," She paused, glancing at the old man. "And that's Hodge. He…well…you get used to him." She eventually settled.

I barely caught the small protest from the spiked demon before Mwambe grabbed my hands, pulling me up. "Come on, then. On your feet."

I let her help me up, then glanced behind me as another demon took my spot, giving me a mock salute. I turned back in time to see Mwambe sticking her tongue out at it. Then she grinned, started pulling me down the long, front porch. "W-where are we going?" I heard myself say.

She stopped. "Well someone had to show you the ropes. Otherwise these magicians will walk all over you." She waved to the man. "Bye, Hodge."

He muttered something about youngsters.

And then I was being pulled again. She glanced at me, starting off by explaining the basics. Before long, I found myself working with her and Hodge. Soon, I couldn't stop the grin when I saw them. It wasn't until later, when my master finally dismissed me, that I realized I would miss my new friends.


	7. Chapter 7

My day had gone without much animation, as opposed to the hectic schedule of my master, with his erratic antics and such. He more or less demanded my presence often; underlying motives unknown to me. But when I did find time to myself between trivial errands, I discovered the tranquil palace life wasn't as calm as I had hoped it to be. Especially for me.

I was making my rounds as a sentry when I turned a corner- then ducked back, scrambling on the marble floor. Clutching onto the stone wall, I risked a peek back. My breath caught, chest tightening. The Egyptian boy continued surveying the full sized portraits in the halls with a critical smirk, oblivious to my thundering heart. I found I could barely think, unable to look away. He stopped abruptly, twisted around to look behind him. Forcing back a yelp, I pulled myself behind the corner.

You see, this had been the reoccurring pattern over the last few weeks. Everywhere I turned it seemed he was there, his presence taunting me. A flurry of emotions had hung over me like a shadow since I found he was here as well, and I wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. I was excited and overwhelmingly anxious to speak with him again, but at the same time I was terrified of what he would say, if he'd be disgusted with what I had become.

Giving an inward sigh, I snuck a glance back. The hall was empty, flickering light licking the excessive paintings. With a quizzical expression, I let go of the wall. He certainly had left in a hurry. "Hmm." I bit my lower lip in thought, spun around with a slight shrug- and yelped in surprise.

Bartimaeus was staring at me, hands on his hips. "Stop stalking me."

I opened my mouth but only a feeble squeak escaped me. I swallowed audibly. "I-I wasn't meaning to…" I wasn't sure of exactly what I had stammered afterward. When he looked at me like that, it was hard to think of any coherent thought, except for one instinctive revelation: I didn't want him to find out now. While I was trying to come up with a plausible excuse, my fingers were scrabbling at my necklace, praying it was out of sight. The decision was made. It would never be the same between us anyway. I was Queezle now.

He raised an eyebrow. I felt myself blush under his intense gaze. Although he wore a different form, the eyes never changed. And neither did his voice. "R-i-i-ght."

I couldn't look away. Watching his lips move as he talked, I shivered, remembering our time in Jerusalem. Did he even remember us at all? I was so much different now- I was a demon like him.

Dark fingers snapped in front of me, small wisps of fire fell away, barely detectable on the seventh plane. My attention snapped back to reality as I realized he had asked me a question. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

He stared at me a moment- I swore my essence was melting in his presence. Then he sighed, twirled on his heels to walk away. "I ask you," he muttered to himself.

I let him go, heart pounding. Leaning against the wall, I propped myself up on a side table in attempt to nonchalantly hold myself up. My elbow slipped and I instantly grew wings to stop the impact with the floor. My eyes flickered to where Bartimaeus had gone. When I saw him staring at me, head tilted to the side, I righted myself. Giving a nervous chuckle, I waved offhandedly, wiggling my shaking fingers in hopes he wouldn't notice. He did. I sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, and shuffled away in the opposite direction. How embarrassing.

* * *

The chef twirled the knife coolly, a green glow emitting from it. I furtively moved myself between him and Bartimaeus, eyes never leaving the blade. Dismay lodged itself in my mind. I wasn't sure how far Joseph's patience would go if his entire kitchen was destroyed. Even if he would excuse me from punishment, I didn't want harm to come to my friend.

Apparently my silent warning meant nothing to them. I felt the static grow tense in the air as Jabor moved closer. I caught Bartimaeus's hand flickering orange on the higher planes as he prepared for an assault. I groaned inwardly, then shot off the first attack. Best to get it done and over with.

It caught Jabor off guard and he stumbled back, but Faquarl was quicker. One of his tentacles lashed out toward me- only for the Egyptian boy to catch it mid-length. A flash of heat- the tentacle severed, falling to the floor with a repulsive squelch. Anger flared in the demon's eyes as Bartimaeus danced out of reach. Jabor was busily looking back and forth, confusion evident as he debated whether to help Faquarl or to turn back to me. But the decision wouldn't take long. I had to act quickly, before the scrap got out of hand.

Jumping to the kitchen counter, I grabbed a cloth and wrapped it sloppily around the handle of a frying pan. Wincing at the cold proximity of silver, I mustered up my strength and threw it as hard as I could. Like some odd disk, it flew through the air, the cloth sailing away and landing on Jabor's face, obscuring his vision. The pan struck the chef square in the forehead- Bartimaeus ducked as it ricocheted across the room and soared into the face of a dazed jackal-headed man.

The pan fell with a loud _clank_. Faquarl cursed, holding his head. Faster than he could react, I was at his side, my left hand growing wicked, long claws as I held it to his throat. The implication was clear. With a silent threat in his eyes, the demon backed away. Giving a glare to Bartimaeus, he released a final jeer. "Need your girlfriend to fight your battles, Bartimaeus? A pitiful display, that is."

I felt my cheeks grow red. "I'd watch out if I were you, Faquarl," I growled, "It looks as though you've dropped something."

For a moment confusion spread across his features as he did a quick circle around himself. He glanced back up, forehead furrowed. A nice bruise was already bulging on it. "What is it?"

"Your intelligence."

An indignant look crossed his face. "Very mature. She's just like you, Bartimaeus," he sneered, "If only easier on the eyes."

Bartimaeus took a step forward, but I held out an arm, the master coming to mind. With a smirk, the chef's form dropped to a snake- he slithered quickly out of the room. An unsteady Jabor followed.

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing heavily. The sound caught in my throat as I caught Bartimaeus's gaze. And suddenly we were both laughing, passing grins back and forth. His eyes were lit with a merry light- I had a sudden flashback to Jerusalem.

"Bloody brilliant!" he exclaimed. "A frying pan- I'll have to use that more often!"

I giggled, a hand raised to stop my blush. I shrugged, trying to seem calm and collected when I was actually bursting with the thrill of the moment inside. "I just needed something silver."

He smiled, stepping closer to clap me on the back. My essence shivered at his proximity. It was near intoxicating. "I knew there was something I liked about you."

_You used to love everything about me._

I fought down the thoughts, the memories that reminded me of the harsh reality. "So: _not_ a stalker."

He laughed again. "I suppose not…"

_Please- how can you not remember me?_

I gave a weak smile. "I doubt Faquarl and Jabor will be back to their old ways soon."

He shook his head, short black hair swishing back and forth. "They're persistent. That won't be enough to rattle them. But it was quite hilarious." He paused. "What was your name again?"

A sharp pang shot through me. "As-Queezle," I corrected myself quickly.

He nodded to himself. "Queezle…" He paused again, head tilting in that familiar way…almost as if he saw something…something that took him back to a time long ago- He shrugged. I felt my hopes fall as I vainly waited to even a flicker of recognition. "Well, Queezle," he lifted two bags, offering one to me. "It's not going to deliver itself. And I'm afraid our master is a rather punctual man."

I smiled, fighting the rush of emotions that came when our fingers brushed. Keeping a cool vigor, I slung the bag over my shoulder. "Lead the way."

* * *

My essence froze to the spot as a hush overcame the room. That was it. The truth was out. All murmuring, movement, forms stealthily changing immediately stopped- even our master couldn't bring himself to speak. Because what was just revealed couldn't be true. I was ready to agree with them. Precipitously, I wished that I could've died there in the desert. I wished that my last memory of Bartimaeus could've been the night we promised ourselves to each other. Not this.

Bartimaeus took a step back, let the necklace drop to the floor. The small clink it made sent needles through my lungs. "That's impossible…"

I couldn't bear to look at him. "Yes…it is." I slowly changed back into my true form, my old body with demonic tweaks here and there. I knew what I must have looked like. What he must've been going through…I couldn't imagine. He had thought for so long that his love had been murdered in cold blood, only to find out centuries later that she had been turned into something despicable.

The djinni's voice was ice, and it cut through me like silver. "_How did you get that guise?_"

My body had started to shake with the effort of just confronting him. I barely squeaked out the words that threatened to choke me. "I wanted you to hear it from me. Not from Faquarl, not from Jabor, not even our master."

Shadows spilled over Bartimaeus, and only his golden eyes stared back at me. It nearly destroyed me inside that he refused to come any closer to me. "Queezle…I told you something personal, and now this…" He seemed at a loss for words. "Whatever joke or petty trick you're playing…" He stopped again, disbelief evident in his voice as he tried to grasp the situation. "It's not funny. I suggest you think carefully where you tread from here."

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I forced them back. My eyes and throat burned from the effort. "Bartimaeus…please. It really _is _me…Asmira-"

"Asmira died centuries ago." The calmness of his voice battered away at my racing heart, hurting more than if he had screamed at me. "She's gone…and she's never coming back. She was human." He paused, long enough for the words to sink in. "You? You are a slave like the rest of us… I knew Asmira. _And you are not her._"

His words rang in my ears, the room wobbling unsteadily. I had hoped it would never come to this. That we could grow close again, with me as Queezle instead of Asmira. But now… He would never look at me the same way again.

Everyone gets a second chance? Right. Mine was ripped from me before I got in a word of explanation.

I heard a distraught sound escape from the djinni before he escaped from the room. I fell to my knees in the pentacle, painfully raising my gaze to my master. The world felt like it was enclosing on me, and I didn't know what else to do than to hope for some sort of release of all of my bonds- from this summons to the chains of my past that dragged behind me, rattling and mocking me with every step I took. From somewhere in the room, I heard Faquarl murmur something incoherent.

"Master…" I heard myself whisper, "You've had your fun. Release me already…Send me away from here." My voice broke on the last sentence.

Joseph managed to speak the dismissal. I let myself be carried away, unable to see anything but the look of betrayal on Bartimaeus's face.


	8. Chapter 8

I stopped, the rock sliding against my sword letting off a sharp screech, orange and yellow sparks showering to the ground. I set the weapon aside, then stood, never raising my eyes from the dead grass that crunched beneath my feet. But when I tried to step forward, the man barred my way. I spoke through gritted teeth. "Faquarl…"

"It was only a question," The demon mused. "…Perhaps the answer is more...engaging...than I thought."

I glared at the ground, moved forward. He grabbed my wrist with a firm hand. Before I could stop myself I had pushed toward him, catching a hold of his arm and digging my nails into his essence as he let go of me. I thrust his arm behind him, the elbow bending at a sick angle. "If you were wise," I growled, "you will not make such assumptions and let me pass."

His arm turned to a smoky substance, retracting back to him. A new one formed just as quickly. I watched on the seventh plane as he rubbed his wound gingerly.

"Touch me once more," I warned, "I'll rip off your tentacles one at a time _and shove them down your throat_."

He stared at me curiously. "A little harsh, don't you think, Cyrine?" He paused. "Or… oh, what was that name you used in Greece?" He snapped his fingers. "Asmira. That was it." He chuckled at my expression. "Yes…yes I see the resemblance." He started to circle me, not unlike a vulture would a carcass. "Interesting…both a human_ and_ a djinni..."

Unable to listen to him any longer, I stormed off in the opposite direction, not caring where my feet took me.

"Who did this to you?" Faquarl called after me.

The question stopped me in my tracks. Whirling around to face him, ears flat against my head and fangs bared, I snarled the words back. "Because of demons like _you_ my life was ripped away from me! All of this magic, magicians and assassins- it's all led up to my demise. And guess what? Maybe I _liked_ being human. Maybe I didn't _want_ to be Queezle. But here I am, nevertheless, stuck in this form."

"And how exactly do _we_ come into this?" Faquarl asked. "Djinn, I mean."

I threw my hands up. "It was the witch and her demons that changed me!"

He shrugged. "Not that they wanted to, of course. More likely, she forced them to-"

I cried out in frustration, starting to pace back and forth. "You're just him! Always hiding behind the slavery excuse!"

"Him?" Faquarl looked from side to side, then back at me, eyes wide. "_Bartimaeus?_" He made a scoffing noise. "Please. Someone I know might be listening." When I started muttering to myself, he inspected his butcher knife, pricking his index finger on the tip of the blade. "In case you have forgotten, whoever you are, we are _all _Djinn. Even you."

"That's the problem." I growled.

But before we could argue further, a foliot materialized relayed instructions from the master. The battalions were advancing. With heavy sighs we hurried off with haste, neither of us looking at the other the rest of the way.

* * *

A cold wind- some horrific sounds and the last pentacle was filled. Rippling bones protruded from the spine, fingers and knees of a creature in a tattered, black cloak. A gruesome moan emitted from it as it raised a pointing finger, bared its rotting teeth-

"Give it up, Arcana." I sighed. "It was a trigger summons. The master isn't here yet."

The moan died in its throat; it straightened up. "But that's not fair!" it whined.

Ignoring the twisted skeleton, a great black bear huffed in its pentacle. "You don't suppose it's another battle, do you?"

Faquarl was in his chef's form, arms crossed in boredom. "We've just won a battle, Corvon. It's highly unlikely Theodore will send us off again. It's too soon, anyhow."

"Doesn't matter." I reasoned. "Those magicians think they can use us as they please. We are but tools to them."

The skeleton sniffed. "But-"

The door burst open- a waft of perfume filled the room. A small thundercloud treaded behind him sullenly. I gave a sympathetic look to the afrit. Corvon and Arcana gave quiet growls, but none of us dared moved. If we so much as breathed too close to the magician, the afrit would jump on us in an instant. That's what protective bindings do for you.

The man stepped pointedly into his pentacle, ever the air of indignation upon him. "Well done, Demons." The praise was empty. It meant nothing to us, and he knew it. He was well aware of what we wanted. As for us, freedom was so close we could almost taste it. "The battle was successfully contained, with little to no casualties. The enemy is in full retreat-"

He broke off as the bear stamped a foot down. I winced at how close he was to the edge of the circle.

"So release us! We have done all that you commanded us..."

Theodore uttered a spell as the bear went on with his rant. I squeezed my eyes shut when Corvon cried out in pain. Seeing darkness through my lids, I listened with resentment. "The war is not yet won. I have reason to believe government officials are recuperating in the forest. A clearing in the center of the woods is our best lead. We will start the search there."

"You have already won the capital, Master." I replied quietly. "Is that not enough for your rebellion to take control?"

He looked at me as though I had just jumped through a ring of fire while juggling melons in a clown suit. I returned it with weary irritation. "We cannot give up yet! We have come so far- we _will_ prevail!"

"Prevailing is one thing. Massacre is another."

There was a pause as the words echoed across the room. I heard Theodore shift from foot to foot. "Open your eyes, little djinni. If you dare challenge me, have a bit of authority about you."

I kept my eyes closed. The gesture gave me a small sense of control- that I was still me, and not a pawn.

"That's an order, Queezle."

Somehow, the calm in his voice angered me. The manner of his speaking rubbed me the wrong way, easily getting under my skin. I glared up at him. "What?" I spat. "A good leader would be open to all opinions given, not push them back down the advocate's throat!"

"I will not be belittled by a demon that refuses to submit to orders."

"What more do you wish for?" I exclaimed. Giving a desperate look to the magician, I gestured to my drained comrades. "We have had enough. We're exhausted-"

A snap from his fingers; The afrit darted forward menacingly. I stared at it with cool apprehension. "You cannot harm me through Raziel." I said. "This pentacle not only keeps me in, but others out. Surely you would have remembered such a small detail, O Great and Wise Magician."

The afrit gave me a quick grin, slinking back to Theodore. As it returned to his side, it gave me a small thumbs up.

The magician cursed. "Never mind. There's no time. All of you are to infiltrate and destroy. Understood?"

"Crystal." Arcana said sullenly.

Theodore clasped his hands together. "Right. Queezle, Faquarl," he addressed us, "The both of you are to choose teams of djinn- as many as you like. Faquarl, you are to close in from the periphery- do _not_ let anyone in _or_ out. Queezle, you are to take a direct assault. I don't care where from."

I exhaled noisily, my left ear twitching in annoyance. "This is murder."

The magician grinned. "No. This is revolution."

* * *

A black panther positioned himself between me and Faquarl as we unsheathed our weapons. "Enough! Both of you!"

I started at Faquarl, only for Corvon and Arcana to hold me back, golden eyes full of anxiety. "Stay away from my team and keep to your own business for once!" I snarled.

"Then stop and reflect on your own controlling issues-"

Zeno let out a terrifying roar. Faquarl and I stopped, still bristling with anger. The other djinn watched in silence. "I said _enough_." The panther growled. "The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves. We are not the enemy- _they_ are!" He pointed to the tents where Theodore and his legionnaires slept.

Corvon nodded, loosening his grip on me as I let my muscles relax. "He's right. We need to save our energy for the battle tomorrow."

Faquarl looked as though he was going to speak, but closed his mouth with an angered clench. Without another word, he turned to a large crow, flying off into the thick of the trees. After a moment, our teams dispersed, and soon it was only Zeno and I.

I gave the panther a grateful nod. "Thanks."

"Anything you need," he purred softly, "I will help with. You are not alone, Queezle."

I barked a short laugh. "That's good to know."

He said nothing, only turning to gaze at the stars. He gave an impatient flick of his tail. "_Where_ is that messenger imp? And the search party should have returned by now."

I pursed my lips in thought. "I'm sure they've just run into a spot trouble. Nothing they can't handle...On the other hand..." I paused. "No, I don't want to assume the worst. Not yet."

"The worst." The djinni repeated cynically. "There's no telling what it will be."

I plopped down on a boulder, sighing heavily. "Neither do I. But it's coming. I know it is. I can feel it."

Zeno glanced at me, made a swift change to a human form, then sat next to me. His eyes were filled with sympathy. "You look spent." He said. "When was the last time you were dismissed?"

I closed my eyes- it took a while for them to open again. "I've lost track."

There was a moment's silence. "You go rest," he said. "I'll keep up vigil until the others return." He smiled at me, raising a finger to his lips. "Shh...It'll be our little secret."

I returned the smile, then stopped abruptly. A wave of guilt crashed over me, threatening to engulf my entire being. I shouldn't have felt remorse- he had rejected me, after all. But I couldn't help feel a sharp pang for Bartimaeus, when I was being so close with Zeno.

I nodded. "Thanks again. I owe you one."

Zeno grinned in the moonlight. "You'll find a way to repay me."


	9. Chapter 9

As conflicted, callous and brutal as he was, I felt something inside of me break as I watched Theodore crumple to the ground. As silent as the dead woods around us, he lifted the body into his arms- the dress the only indicator it was a woman, so badly bloodied and ruined the body was. He held her close, her fragmented neck cracking as the spine shifted.

Swallowing hard, I took a step toward my master, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. For the first time I saw remorse in him. I saw his humanity battling with what he must do. And in a sick, twisted way, I saw myself. The notion drove me to speak. "If there is anything I can do..." When he didn't respond, I went on. "We can rest here, if you like."

Theodore murmured something, his words lost in the wind rustling the leaves around us. The other djinn were silent. Our master slowly lowered the body back to the ground, kissing his fingers and laying them on her lips.

I glanced down, finding myself unable to look upon them. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't quite understand..."

The magician's shoulders shook with the effort of breathing. "Forward."

My forehead furrowed. In a way, I understood his reasoning. He had come so far and lost so much. And by this point, his pride had taken over his mind- he could not stop now. I had thought the same, so many centuries ago when I was supposed to kill Solomon. "Theodore...you're in a state of shock. You need to rest; clear your mind."

"I said forward." came the broken reply.

I didn't move as he stood, my hand sliding off his shoulder. I stared uncomprehendingly as he dusted his hands off, then gripped his sword attached to his belt. Theodore started back on the trail, walking rigidly. He didn't look back.

A warm presence next to me. "Are you alright?" Zeno whispered beside me as we trudged on. My feet drug across the ground as if they were made of lead. All I could do was nod, my vision already growing blurry as we left the dead.

* * *

A blast to my left- I dodged to the side, running my sword through my attacker. I tried not to think about what I was doing, killing both humans and djinn with my iron blade. The cold proximity of the metal was just far enough from my essence to wield it. With narrowed eyes, I scanned the clearing, watching the battle unfold. They were quick and prepared, battering us before we had a chance to unsheathe our weapons.

I gave a silent curse. We should have known. We should have held back, resisted Theodore's orders. Nausea washed over me for a second, triggered by a sense of vertigo. I was their leader. I could have done something to prevent this slaughter.

With a stone heart, I pushed the thoughts away. Battles are never clean, and many die...but now it was _my_ turn to lead them to their deaths, instead of fighting for their lives.

Giving a slight shake of my head, I growled at myself. _Focus._ But it only took one more look at the world around me to lose my concentration once more.

Death, blood- Everywhere around me. Essence stains under silver daggers, bodies to slowly become part of the earth. Bright lights of all shades and hues, all smells and sounds swirling in the throng. This had to end. _But how? How do you stop a battle without additional violence and murder?_

Almost in disgust I thrust my weapon away from me. I couldn't bear to hold it. This was it. This was the battle of Sparta, and I would _not_ claim one more life.

But of course, it's not as if I had any choice.

For a few seconds I was free. I was in control of myself again. And then a sharp pain inside of me, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out. With more anger than I've borne in centuries, I directed my thoughts back to fighting. The pain subsided, if anything leaving me a little winded.

The charge of my master's will echoed in my head. There was no use fighting against it. After all of these years, I had done nothing but fight against the magician's orders, fight for my freedom to prove I was my own. But now? Now, when it counted the most, I could barely even drop my sword.

There was no use in fighting any longer. It was never going to change. The magicians had us over a barrel...

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the blade, closed my eyes...

A cold chill at my back. I whirled around, eyes lit with a dark certainty. The cry died in the demon's throat. I breathed out once more, then brought the sword in a wide arc around me. I didn't waste time to see the magician sink to the ground.

I wasn't sure when it happened, but sometime amidst the battle, I cleared my mind of every feeling, every fleeting thought that tried to cross my brain. Everything was on auto-pilot- turn, swing, jump, breathe, run- it was all I was capable of thinking.

And the enemy decreased faster and faster. I was lightning quick- faster than I've ever been- ruthless and cold, strong and somehow smart about my every move.

Shapes, bodies, orders shouted, cries of agony- none of them penetrated the darkness that seemed to swell in me.

It lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Every face, both human and not, were etched into my brain, promising emotional torment when I least expected it.

And suddenly I was alone, breathing slowly, lowering my blade. Like a tidal wave, it all came back to me. I noticed the stinging in my side, on my cheek and arm. My bare feet sunk deep into the grass, something red and sticky seeping between my toes. I glanced around. No sign of the others. Had they all gone? Or had I...

The world halted its spin as I saw something flit through the trees. I squinted, straining for any sign of existence. Only then was I able to pick out the quailed forms of my fellows. Some charged off, hot on the trail of those who managed to escape. Others limped after them. Some lay still, only attempting to shift position when necessary.

The sight of them in pain, the horror of what I had just done...it was all too much to bear. My chest tightened, and I felt more alone than ever before. But before I could lose myself once more to the darkness, a mass of fur behind a rock caught my attention. It was one of his favorite forms...and if it _was _him...

As if my legs had a mind of their own, I found myself stumbling across the field, suddenly by his side. With a gentle hand, I took his muzzle, lifting it out of the strange gray substance pooling around him. His form flickered once on the first plane, revealing his true form for a split second.

"Corvon?" I whispered.

The bear opened one eye, recognition flickering in it before he cringed in pain. "Silver," he managed. "I really hate silver."

I gave a small smile, gently touching his paw. He had become one of my friends, with his childish antics and immature mindset. And I could only write off the human emotion as love. I felt responsible for him- even went so far as to think of him as my little brother.

I sat with him a moment, watched with a burning throat as his eyes wandered behind me, before going opaque. His form disintegrated almost immediately, and soon I was hunched over nothing more than empty field.

I wasn't sure how long I sat like that, unable to move. But it wasn't long before I heard faltering footsteps behind me.

Theodore's voice was no surprise. "Queezle, attend to me."

I wiped at my eyes, even though they were dry. Slowly, I turned, only to have realization slap me in the face. He was almost completely unscathed, save for a small burn mark on his shoulder where his blackened clothing smeared on his skin. "Where _were_ you, Master?" I whispered hoarsely, understanding starting to dawn on me. "While the rest of is stood and fought, following _your_ orders?"

He paused, confirming his answer before he spoke. And to think I pitied him. "It is irrelevant. The demon Faquarl has chased off any surviving perpetrators. Zeno is leading the few left of your team." He paused again. "And may I ask, where were _you,_ demon?"

The utter gall of that coward! I growled the words back at him. "Where else?" I gestured to the stained clearing around me, my hand shaking slightly.

For a moment he drew back- in horror or surprise I was unsure. "By yourself?..." The magician seemed at a loss for words. He cleared his throat. "Well...I've a new job for you-"

"No."

Silence.

I stepped toward him, and he stumbled back. "There were good people here." I said quietly, advancing faster now. He staggered backwards, eyes wide with terror. "Innocent blood." I paused, stopped as he backed up against a tree. "I am through with your dirty work, Theodore."

"Queezle-"

"Release me."

A stubborn look flashed in his eyes as he clung to the tree. "I am your master-"

"If you will not," I said, venom sneaking into my voice, "then I will release myself."

He scrabbled at his knife, but I was faster. With a resentful glower, I shoved my hand forward. His eyes flew wide, and with a cry of pain, I pulled my claws from him. Blood dripped from his wound, adding to the puddle we had already been standing in. And this time, my knees buckled in sync with his. And even as I fell, I felt the pull of the Other Place, lulling away the tears that finally came.


	10. Chapter 10

Queezle of Sparta. That's what they were calling me now. The humans had stamped the cursed battle on my records, stitching the title into my every summons. Generally after so many years, after hundreds of enslavements, I would learn to forget, to let the passing years wash away my ignominy and dismay. But I still felt the pain of it, every time those wretched words were tacked onto my name. Instead of making me want to crawl under a rock and stay there for millennia, I felt a sudden rush of provocation as the words were spoken.

"Yes indeed, Master. But I would prefer it if you were to simply address me by my name."

"Is there a problem, young djinni?" I caught the warning tone easily enough.

I looked away, letting the words mumble out. "I'm not one for titles."

Propitiously for me, he agreed to my suggestions after repeating the process for a few summons. It had only been a week, but the magician- Radley- had quickly softened to me, usually conversing once or twice a day. He expressed his opinions to me, to which I shared my own view on. And soon, I noticed a small point of trust forming between us. The thought made me smile to myself. In many ways, he reminded me much of my first master, Darius.

I chuckled softly, thinking back to the palace life. "Yes, the king was a very superstitious fellow. He believed in the most ridiculous notions for the longest of times, but was never able to tell an imp from a thicket. I remember once, he was so frightened he began to bath in rosemary!"

Radley tried to suppress a laugh, leaning forward in intrigue. "No! Really?"

I allowed myself to grin. "You could smell him a mile off. And the fool was oblivious that half of his army was the very demons he was so terrified of!"

We both laughed, my master pausing to take a sip from his drink. And that was when the atmosphere in the room changed, the temperature dropping. A familiar smell arose in the air as one of his pentacles lit up. He held up a hand. "One moment, Queezle."

I shrugged to myself, crossed one of my legs comfortably as we waited for the spirit to appear. Before it even fully materialized, I half slid out of my seat, eyes flying wide. I gripped the back of the chair with a shaky hand, heart pounding as it always did when he was near. He was the last being I expected to see.

"Bartimaeus," Radley began, "What news have-"

The Egyptian boy froze, his eyes narrowing when he saw me. "You!"

I stood, one of my fists clenching. "You!"

Poor Radley could only wait out the argument as we fought back and forth, me pacing around the room as my rant stormed on. Bartimaeus was still stuck inside his pentacle, but it didn't damper his fulsome demeanor. He shot back insults and explanations on his behalf just as quickly as I could inculpate. And for some reason, my heart fluttered in my chest at just the sight of him.

* * *

The door shut.

As one, Bartimaeus and I turned toward each other, bristling with distaste and annoyance. Giving an indignant huff, I flicked a piece of hair behind my shoulder, my long, dark hair falling perfectly. Turning away from him, I picked up my brush and started painting. I heard him mutter something under his breath.

We painted in silence for a few moments before curiosity won over my arrogance. I snuck a peek over my shoulder. As if he felt my gaze on him, he twisted around, gave a sly grin, waggling his fingers as he waved. I narrowed my eyes- went back to painting. In my exasperated manner, I hadn't realized I started painting faster.

Hearing rushed brush strokes against the wall, I looked back. Half his wall was already covered. Setting my jaw I painted furiously, trying to keep ahead of him.

"Demons!"

Bartimaeus and I stopped mid-stroke, now floating a few feet above the ground. Our master was below us, arms crossed and foot tapping. "I wanted the building _painted_, not massacred with oils. Did I not make myself clear?"

Fighting back a smirk, I pointed at the Egyptian boy. "He started it, Sir. I was simply trying to keep up."

The cry of protest from the djinni was ignored by Radley. "Bartimaeus," The portent tone in his voice rang, "I want no problems while you are on this job. And that includes bothering my other slaves. Honestly! You aren't a toddler. I've seen your records." With a roll of his eyes, he cast an apologetic look at me. I gave a small thumbs up, turning to the side so Bartimaeus could not see. A small smile on my master's lips; he made his way toward the door. "Get the job done!" He called over his shoulder as the door shut once more.

I grinned at Bartimaeus, sticking out my tongue in a mocking fashion.

"What in the name of Ra was _that?_" He cried, careful not to sling his brush.

I gave a simper, went back to painting. The djinni was rattled now. I supposed he wasn't used to being ignored by the others of his kind. The thought pleasured me. But it didn't prepare me for what happened next.

I gasped in shock as the cold paint made contact with my essence. Cheeks growing red, I glared at the Egyptian boy. He put on a face of innocence. "_Oops,_ pardon _me,_"

"Very mature," I growled, then slung my own paint at him. His skin and clothes were suddenly blotched blue. I couldn't suppress the giggle.

"And that _was_?" He retorted.

"No. But it made me feel a whole lot better." To prove my point, I lurched my brush, the dark blue paint flinging itself onto the astonished demon. I sniggered.

He frowned, looked down- stopped when he saw the bucket. I stepped back as mischievous eyes met mine. "Bartimaeus...don't you dare-" I broke off with half a squeal as I was slathered with green paint. The Egyptian boy set the bucket down, dusted off his hands.

Feeling my cheeks grow red, I tossed up a small tube of yellow, then shot it with a diminutive convulsion. The tube exploded, and I only had moments to throw up a shield before the courtyard was lit bright yellow. An outline of Bartimaeus was on the wall behind him. He blinked slowly, held up his brush.

I lowered my barriers, whipping out my own brush.

With a determined light in his eyes, he jerked his brush toward me, wielding it as you would a sword. I did the same, and was able to get a long streak across his cheek before he ran his from my forehead to my chin. Dropping low, I rolled once, grabbed a bottle of paint and squirted it at him mercilessly. He dodged the first spray, snatching up two of his own.

Laughing now, we covered each other in odd colors of paint, from primaries to mixes as we blasted cans and tubes, emptied bottles and buckets, slashed at each other with our brushes.

"-and in the courtyard we..."

Bartimaeus and I stopped immediately, guiltily hiding our weapons behind our backs as Radley stopped at the entrance to the square. Our master stared at us in disbelief for a moment, then turned quickly, shoving someone back into the hallway. "On second thought, why don't you have a look at the kitchen? We have the finest chef in the land, and the décor is exquisite!"

He slammed the door shut, whirling around to us. I rocked by on my heels, eyes on the tree tops beside me. Bartimaeus whistled nonchalantly, and a small giggle escaped me as he slid his brush across my arm. I quickly smothered the sound, trying to keep a straight face as I reluctantly turned my attention to Radley. But as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Bartimaeus squirted what was left of his bottle, and the magician was highlighted in color.

I brought my hands to my mouth, covering my grin. Bartimaeus nodded. "I told you I had expertise in painting."

Radley groaned, palmed his forehead. "I'm almost too afraid to ask...nevertheless..." He paused. "What is going on in here?"

I gave a small shrug, glancing at Bartimaeus. "Ultimate Paint Fight?" I suggested.

* * *

Bartimaeus reached out with a shaking hand, tentatively touching my cheek. He hissed out a breath, running his fingers along my jawbone. I shivered, half closing my eyes. He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "It_ is_ you…" he paused, golden eyes staring into mine. "…Asmira…"

I smiled sadly, giving a small nod. "I never meant to hurt you," I murmured, tears rising behind my eyelids. "But I didn't know what to say…how to explain what's happened to me…I'm still not sure myself."

He shook his head, his hand never leaving my cheek. Unconsciously, I pressed mine against his. It was warm and comforting, and everything I had missed since Jerusalem. "You loved me, and at the first test of that trust, I betrayed you." he said quietly, "It wasn't fair of me to do that…but you just don't know how relieved I am to see you again, Queezle_ or_ Asmira."

My heart thudded as his other hand snaked around my neck in that familiar way. "I've missed you too, Bartimaeus." I barely breathed the words as our lips touched, him pulling me closer.

"I thought you were dead, Asmira…" the words were broken, and I held back as much as I could. He pulled back, wiped a tear from my cheek. The djinni took my hands in his. "I wish I could promise to never leave you again...but seeing as that didn't work out so wonderfully last time..."

I gave a slight laugh, dropping my gaze to our entwining fingers, then bringing them back up to meet his steady gaze. He leaned his forehead into mine, and I felt something press into my palm. I glanced down, a grieved smile on my face when I saw the amethyst necklace. "But this," he went on, "this is my promise to you, that even when we are apart, I'll always be with you."

Before I could say anything stupid I leaned forward slightly, and he met me halfway, softly pressing his lips to mine. We were both slight with our every touch, almost afraid we might lose each other again if we made as much as one wrong move. But at the same time, we never stopped holding each other, never broke away, promising we would stay together for as long as possible. And for a while, we did.


End file.
